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There’s more to being a father than writing checks.”
liked it when people were happy with me. It made me feel warm in my belly, not like the burning-hot feeling when I made them sad. Like Daddy.
“Okay, okay, his name is Mark, and he’s a blow-in to Ballylaggin like me,”
BOOO MARK
“That’s right, ya little overfed tank,” Old Murphy taunted, sounding farther away now. “I’ll put manners on you yet!” “That fucker! Mam says I’m stocky, not fat, and Dad says it’ll fall off when I get taller,”
not another person calling gibsie fat.
“I’m big-boned, Hughie.” Now he was the one to elbow me to stop me from laughing. “We can’t all be beanpoles.”
“So when’s your sister getting back from the hairdresser with Sinead?” Rolling my eyes, I gave Gibs a dirty look, even though I was secretly glad that he was back to his favorite topic. “Would it kill you to pretend I’m your favorite for one day?”
I didn’t feel like screaming. Instead, I felt warm. My thoughts were nice and slow. It always happened when I sat next to Shannon Lynch. It made me want to sit with her forever.
“Thank you,” she offered, shoulders shaking. “I’ve never had a friend stick up for me before.”
SHANNON MY ANGEL
Claire was loud and funny, and she made me feel happy. Shannon was quiet and calm and made me feel safe.
She wasn’t shy like Shannon or strange like me. This girl looked like sunshine. Everyone wanted to sit with Claire Biggs and be her best friend, but she only wanted to sit with us and be our best friend.
“You remind me of Joe.” “Your brother?” “Yep.” She nodded again. “And that’s a very good thing.”
“But he pushed Shannon,” I argued back, feeling my skin grow hot as my eyes followed the raindrops splattering against the window. “He pushed my friend.”
Joe Gibson will always be the original Gibsie.”
Claire told us he was stinky and looked like the troll on the cover of storybook The Three Billy Goats Gruff. Claire told a lie. Her brother did not look like the troll.
She sort of resembled a ghost. Or an angel. Something different. Something special.
They were so light, they looked like pale-blue icicles with jagged lightning bolts of gray darting through them.
Golden skin. Yellow hair. Kind smile. Eyes like Daddy’s whiskey. Soap and strawberries. Hugh Biggs.
I want Lizzie.” Nobody had ever said that about me before. But Claire did. She said she wanted me. My heart thumped with excitement.
“A star is better than a square.”
Hugh. Claire. Gibsie. Shannon. Patrick. And me.
Claire said he could have taken the rest of the school year off, but he didn’t do that. Instead, he got back up and faced the day. It made me proud to be his friend. It made me think I could be brave like him someday, too.
“Are you threatening me, Hugh Andrew Biggs?” “How could I do that when I’m just a kid?”
listening as my parents bounced questions at Dr. Christmas. At least, that’s what I called him in my head because he looked just like Santa Claus.
Usually, the girls were the stars onstage and the boys danced awkwardly in the background, but not this boy. Not our Gibs.
“She is Morticia Addams.” “And let me guess; your brother is Gomez.”
“That’s right, and we already have a friend going as Lurch, so you should stop making your face look so stupid.”
“Mark Allen can huff and puff all he wants when I’m a grown-up, but I’ll be strong enough to keep him out.”
knew the lads at school would call me an egghead for admitting it, but I fucking loved reading. Thrillers, murder mystery, true crime, autobiographies—it didn’t matter.
Claire didn’t need batteries to charge her up, just sunshine.
When Joey whipped his own jumper off and placed it over her head, I felt another wave of emotion hit me. Sadness. Because his jumper wasn’t in much better condition than hers. But at least it hadn’t been torn to ribbons by bullies.
when Ciara Maloney hit Shannon on the back with a blackboard duster, and I, in turn, hit Ciara in the face with my fist.
“And if he gives you guys shit for this, I’ll take off my shoe and stab him with it.” She looked at me and winked. “Especially you, birthday boy.” Oh fuck. My poor, poor heart.
“Because Hugo Boss-man loves our little viper,”
“I promise you faithfully that I will never try to take your Claire-Bear,” he continued, tone laced with amusement. “Good,” Gibsie replied, looking mollified. “Because I would miss you an awful lot if I had to kill you.”
I turned to see Joey Lynch take a seat on the grassy embankment beside me. “Why are you crying, kid?”
“You remind me of someone I used to know.” “Who?” “My younger self,”
“I’ll be seeing ya, kid.”
“Oh, hi, Gerard.” The beaming smile she had for our friend quickly morphed into a scowl when her eyes landed on Mark. “Ew.”
wit was shit, you’d be constipated.”
“You have the nerve to call Gibs ‘Fatty’? At least when he bleeds actual blood comes out. If we poked a hole in your fat ass, tomato sauce would come out!”
“Do you want to say that to my face?” “I thought I already had,” Lizzie shot back sarcastically. “But do you want to turn around for me to tell your other side, you two-faced prick?”
“I would rather shit in my hand and clap.”
will cut them out of your gooch and feed them to your bitch-ass friend.”
“I heard he’s some hotshot from Dublin.”
JOHNNY
I’m going to Van Gogh myself.”
“You’ll see drama when I chop my fucking ears off,” Feely warned, tossing his controller aside. “There’s no point. I can’t concentrate on the game.”
Worse, they had groomed Gibsie to within an inch of his life. His blond curls? Yeah, they were bunched together in two stumpy pigtails on either side of his head, while the pink vest he was sewn into stretched at the seams in protest.
“We have eighty years’ worth of tomorrows to spend together.”
“No. It was her body and her choice to make,”
“I’m going to grow up, Liz. One day, I’ll be a man, and if that prick even looks in your direction, I’ll put him in the ground.”
